


In the Quiet Hours of the Morn

by kesomon



Category: Tron (1982), Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post-Coital, Sappy, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Observations on two programs in the wee hours of the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Quiet Hours of the Morn

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp is fuzzy; feel free to imagine it set whenever you want it to be.

The Grid was a place that never slept, not completely. Even in the quietest microcycles, there was always light and life on the streets: the messengers ferrying automatic updates to the sectors that need them; the maintenance crews repairing damages and checking power supplies for the runtime ahead; low-level security ensuring no trouble arises in the otherwise slumbering system.

The pale blue light shining from the building nodes drew delicate patterns across the walls through the opacity of the curtains, moulding themselves to the curves of a bedchamber’s occupants. In the darkness, only the faintest of circuitry glowed, modulating with the slow energy cycles of sleep.

A soft chime, barely audible, sounded through the room – a notification of the timestamp and the impending runtime, a general alarm for the system to rouse and greet the new millicycle.

Only one was awake enough to hear it.

Still half-caught in the somnolent calm of hibernation, Yori acknowledged the chime in silence, but made no move to heed its summons. There was little she needed to accomplish in the next millicycle or so, and nothing that couldn’t be put off for a few microcycles more.

She yawned softly as she shifted closer to the body next to her, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder, and stretched an arm across his torso, a quiet noise of contentment humming in her chest. The arm stretched around her shoulders was a comforting weight, heavy and protective even now. But she was far too awake now to fall back into a low-power state. With a sigh, she stretched the stiffness from her back and propped herself up on an elbow, letting her optical sensors adjust to the low lighting of the room as she studied her mate in repose.

Asleep, Tron looked so much more at peace with himself. He gave so much to the system as its watchful protector, and the responsibilities wore heavily on him sometimes. But here, in the dark and early microcycles, the weight lifted (if only for a short while), and he looked so much more like the newly beta program she had fallen for so many cycles ago. Yori reached up a hand to brush aside the fringe of dark hair that had fallen across his eyes. It was growing out again. Perhaps he would let it continue to lengthen this time, rather than revert the render to its base template.

Moving her fingers down, Yori trailed a feather-light touch over his circuits, tracing the delicate patterns on his skin. Though dimmed, they still held a hint of the indigo that lingered from their coupling the millicycle previous. A faint blush suffused her own circuits with lavender at the memory, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. It had been a long time since they’d had the chance to be together; their lovemaking had been playful and frenetic, filled with laughter and passion and wild abandon, with fumbling touches too eager to keep any sort of organisation.

She thumbed over a bruised patch of circuits at his collar, smirking at the memory of biting there, nipping and sucking at the cluster, claiming him with a mark no one would ever see, but that he’d know and feel for millicycles to come. The spot was still sensitive, her touch causing Tron to stir; he shifted, breathing deep and exhaling a quiet sigh, a mellow, rumbling purr of happiness.

The noise made Yori’s emotive processors ache desperately, overcome at once by a fierce surge of affection and love for her mate, blinking back unbidden tears. With a tender smile, she nestled herself back into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his chest and nuzzling closer. There would be time enough for play later.

She closed her eyes, and let the darkness and the soft, slow sound of Tron’s breathing lull her into hibernation.

When the second soft chime sounded, neither was awake to hear it.


End file.
